


Let's Play Russian Roulette

by DrownedTrying



Series: Hetalia Fics [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/F, F/M, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, Italian Mafia, M/M, Russian Mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-09-29 05:38:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17197559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrownedTrying/pseuds/DrownedTrying
Summary: If you had an inkling of an idea on how your day would start out, being shot at by the Russian Mafia wouldnotbe on the top of your list. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t change your route to school. You haven’t evenspokento anyone strange, and yet, here you are.





	1. Chapter 1

If you had an inkling of an idea on how your day would start out, being shot at by the Russian Mafia would _not_ be on the top of your list. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t change your route to school. You haven’t even _spoken_ to anyone strange, and yet, here you are. 

Nothing was out of the ordinary as you made the journey to the University of Hetalia. It was only eight in the morning, and this was your only class for today. Antonio was nice enough to give you a discounted meal, with the promise that you brought the new student with you to his café later. You, of course, accepted without hesitation, but had to hurry before you left said new student waiting at the school by himself for too long. It took you no time at all to make it to the town square, only halfway to your destination.

That was when everything went downhill.

Bullets whizzed by your ear, causing you to scream and duck for cover, your hands clamped tightly over your ears and your heart beating painfully fast in your chest. Gunshots deafened you, the sound unfamiliar and so unlike the ones in movies, and various voices screaming at each other in an unfamiliar language sounded all around you. You could see from the reflection in a window that it was the two mobs that occupied your small town, the Russian Mafia and the Italian Mafia, fighting each other, not caring if a civilian was shot. It was only moments before red and blue lights flashed from all around, but that didn’t stop the two mobs from fighting each other. They only turned their guns to the white police cars that appeared. 

“(Y/N)?!” a voice screamed. You turned and saw Alfred crouching behind his police car, a black gun in his hands as he stares at you with his mouth agape, shock and fear evident on his face. You had practically grown up with the police captain, and he was your longest living friend. However, there’s no time to think about the past. You figure you should really avoid getting shot. The police captain glances at the two mobs, his blue eyes sharp and watching them closely, before taking a chance and rushing to you. Bullets fly by him and he was lucky to not get hit.

“Alfred, what’s going on?!” you yelled. The American pushes you behind a brick building, his muscular body shielding you from the gunfire. 

“The Russian and Italian Mafias have started a war,” Alfred says, his voice serious. You blink in shock, not only from how his fun-loving personality seemingly disappears into someone you don’t know, but from the news as well.

“What?! Why?” you ask. Alfred shoots from behind the corner of the building, and you now recognize it as a Glock 22. You faintly wonder why you didn’t recognize it before, especially since Alfred had given you one for Christmas. It’s safely tucked under your pillow, just in case of a robbery. He turns back to you, running a hand through his dirty blonde locks.

“We’re not sure. They never come to this part of town to fight. They’re usually by the bank, fighting over money.”

“Do you think they’re fighting for territory?” you question. Alfred shrugs, his eyes scanning the scene from around the corner. The gunshots begin to decrease, and you wince, knowing that multiple cops have fallen, but so have members of the two mafias. He fires his gun three times before ducking back behind the building.

“Could be,” he responds. You hear two different languages scream out to their men, and it’s not long before large-sounding vehicles speed off, their wheels squealing on the asphalt. 

“Cease fire!” an officer yells, and the last standing cops stop their shooting. Static rings in your ears, and you’re surprised with how silent the town square has become. Alfred sighs and turns towards you, a worried expression painted on his face.

“Were you shot?” he asks. You shake your head, hugging yourself.

“Thankfully not,” you reply. The blonde smiles tiredly, but frowns. 

“You have school, don’t you?” You nod. “Where are your books?”

“They’re at school,” you say. Alfred nods, opening his mouth to speak, but a flash of white light goes off, blinding you both for a moment. When the white specks leave your eyes, you turn to the opposite side of the building, but you see no one. “What was that?”

“I have no clue,” the police captain mumbles, his eyes narrowed. 

“Captain Jones,” an officer calls. Alfred sighs through his nose.

“What is it, Officer Alaki?” The officer comes into view, nodding at you before turning back to Alfred. You nod back.

“We have information regarding the Russian and Italian mobs,” he says. Alfred stiffens, but forces himself to relax.

“Ten-four. I’ll be right over.” Officer Alaki nods and walks back to the other officers, who were joined by detectives and EMTs. You look up at your tall, blonde friend.

“I want you to go straight to the college, do you hear? No shortcuts, don’t talk to anyone, and have your phone in your hand in case of an emergency,” Alfred demands, frowning at you. You give him a warm, yet teasing smile as you mockingly salute him.

“Yes sir!” you exclaim. The captain gives you an amused smile, patting your head.

“Good. Text me when you get to school, alright?” 

“I will,” you reply, hugging the man. He returns the embrace, but neither of you notice the second white flash. You pull away, looking at your wrist watch. “Shit! I’m going to be late!”

“Then hurry and get to school!” Alfred says, pushing you in the direction of the university. You nod and take off, turning to wave to him. He waves back before walking to the detectives. “Now, what have you found about the mobs?”

With the University of Hetalia in sight, you breathe a sigh of relief, but you continue running. You can see the new student, Peter, waiting patiently by the front doors, reading a book to pass the time. Glancing at your watch, you notice you're fifteen minutes late, which encourages you to sprint even faster, though your legs burn and your lungs scream at you to stop. The blonde male looks up from his book when you call his name. Smiling, he places a bookmark in the book to save his place and closes said book, watching with a smile as you run up to him. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” you wheeze. You skid to a stop in front of the young blonde, your hands on your knees as you gasp for air. Peter blinks his blue eyes at you, tilting his head.

“What happened? Are you okay?” he asks, clutching the strap of his messenger bag tightly. You nod, only to shake your head a moment later. 

“On my way over, I was caught in a firefight between the Russian and Italian mafias,” you explain, standing straight. Peter’s eyes grow wide.

“Blimey! That sounds dreadful!” he exclaims. You nod, shrugging.

“I’m surprised they started firing at each other in the town square,” you mutter. A second passes before you smile brightly at the man. He’s only a year younger than you, but that doesn’t stop him from signing up for the hardest classes the university has to offer. “Now then, Peter, why don’t I show you around the campus, then I can help you get situated?” The blonde grins widely, his blue eyes glittering in excitement.

“That sounds splendid!” Your smile widens as you lead the young man to the entrance of the building, sending a short text to Alfred to confirm your safety before walking through the doors of the university.

* * *

All is quiet in the mansion. Not a single sound can be heard, not even the chirping of birds. This is exactly how he likes it. With the war raging against the Italian Mafia for land, money, and men, things have been stressful, so this one moment of peace and utter silence is welcomed with open arms. 

Leaning back, he sighs and closes his eyes. He is well aware of what had happened in the town square, and he’s aware that the law enforcement showed up to ruin everything. They were winning against the fucking Noodles, but they were forced to retreat. 

Besides, it was _their_ fault they had stepped on the Russian Mafia’s territory.

The sound of a door slamming open, along with hurried footsteps to his door, makes the tall man open his unnaturally colored eyes. All he wanted was another moment of peace, but seeing as that won’t happen, he might as well get ready for the new information that his informant brings him. He had just sat straight in his mahogany chair before a series of knocking sounded from his door.

“Enter,” he bellows, a calm smile on his face. The door creaks open, revealing Toris standing just outside with a file in his shaking hands. The man quivers at the Boss’s calm smile, knowing that the beige haired man will sooner or later be boiling with anger and hatred.

“S-Sir,” Toris stammers, taking a step into the room. He wasn’t the brightest of his two friends, but he was certainly not as airheaded as Raivis. 

“What is it, Toris? I am very busy today,” the Boss says. It was a lie, but the smaller man didn’t need to know that.

“I have gathered information against the Hetalian Police Force,” the long haired man says. He hasn’t stopped shaking.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Bring it here,” the Boss demands. Toris nods quickly, a little _too_ quickly, and walks quickly to the Boss’ desk. He hands the Boss the file, watching anxiously as the man opens said file and stares at the two pictures. He’s silent. “What the fuck is this supposed to be?” the Boss finally asks.

“It’s, uhm, it’s the Captain of the, uh, the Hetalian Police Force. He had brought the girl out of the firefight and was seen protecting her. Eduard did some digging and, er, found that they have known each other for many years, and was hoping we could use the girl against the Captain.” He knew he was rambling, but Toris couldn’t help it. Whenever he was chosen to bring information to the Boss, nothing ended well, and he often left with fractured bones, bruises, and blood oozing from cuts on his face, arms, torso, and legs. 

“I see,” the Boss mutters. He falls silent, well aware of the long haired man quivering in his boots, but focuses on the picture. The girl looked faintly familiar, and from the looks of it, she and Jones were awfully close. “The girl. Have you discovered her name?” 

“A-Ah, yes! Her name, her name, her name,” Toris mutters, squeezing his eyes shut and thumping his right index finger against his temple. The Boss waits impatiently, but his smile grows sweeter. “Her name’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N)! Aged twenty, a business student at the University of Hetalia. Her parents live on the east side of Hetalia, and her younger brother goes to Hetalia High. Eduard’s still gathering information about her,” Toris informs. The Boss nods, closing the file. He wordlessly stands and pulls on his tan trenchcoat and light pink scarf, the smile on his face growing. “S-Sir? Where are you going?”

Ivan Braginski, head of the Russian Mafia, simply smiles at Toris, closing his purple eyes for a moment to give off an innocent appearance, only making the shorter man tremble even more.

“I am going to my flower shop. Do not bother me, Toris, or there will be consequences,” Ivan grins. With no other explanation, the Russian steps out of his office, leaving the Lithuanian frozen in fear. If he were to get information on this (Y/N) girl and revenge on the Hetalian Police Force, he would have to do it himself.

This was personal.

* * *

You sit across from Peter at _Pastasciutta,_ waiting patiently to have your order taken. Due to the sudden war between the two mafias, Antonio’s café had to close, leaving the Italian restaurant to be the only restaurant open. However, it gave you the chance to try out the restaurant, so all was not lost.

“How do you like the University of Hetalia so far?” you ask, sipping your strawberry Italian cream soda. It was sweeter and creamer than you had expected, but it was delicious nonetheless.

“It’s the bee’s knees!” Peter grins, making you smile into your drink. You gently put the glass back on the table.

“That’s great! I’m so happy to hear it,” you tell him. You study his features for a moment, humming in thought. Peter notices and looks up at you from his menu.

“Is there something wrong?” he asks.

“No, not at all!” you say. “It’s just that you remind me of my friends, Alfred, Matthew, and Arthur.” You lift your glass and take another sip.

“Oh!” Peter blinks. “You mean my cousins?” You almost choke on your beverage, your (E/C) eyes wide as you stare at Peter.

“They’re your cousins?!” you nearly shout, regaining yourself. Peter nods, smiling widely. 

“Yes! I’m visiting them from Sealand for a year, so I’m quite happy to find that you know them!” You stare at him, dumbfounded. After all these years, you never knew Alfred, Arthur, and Matthew had another cousin. Not one of the three boys had said anything, and honestly, you feel a little betrayed, if not for the fact that you were kept far out of a loop you didn’t know existed. 

“Bonjour! I am your waiter for tonight. May I take your order?” someone asks. You look up to see a blonde man with a stubble for a beard smiling down at you and Peter. You recognize him immediately as Francis, the _one_ cousin you _did_ know about. “Ah, (Y/N)! It is good to see you!”

“You as well, Francis,” you say with a smile. Francis looks over at Peter, who beams at him. 

“Peter Kirkland! You are finally here for college, oui?”

“Yep! I have (Y/N) showing me around, and I enjoy my classes already, so I’m quite excited for this year!” Peter smiles. Francis grins and ruffles the younger boy’s hair.

“Très bien. Are you ready to order?” Both you and Peter place your orders, and it’s moments after Francis disappears into the kitchen that the bright red kitchen doors swing open, and a brunette wearing a white chef’s uniform bounds out, ignoring how everyone in the restaurant stops eating and socializing to stare at him. He looks around the room, and when he spots you and Peter, he practically runs over. 

“Ciao! Welcome to _Pastasciutta!_ I am Feliciano Vargas, head chef and owner of this restaurant! Francis tells me you are his cousin and his cousin’s friend, non?” You share a grin with Peter.

“Yes, we are,” you grin. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and this is Peter Kirkland.” Feliciano grins widely. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you both! You are very welcome to eat pasta with me and my brother!” Confused, you raise an eyebrow at Peter, who watches with amusement.

“Your brother?” At that moment, the front door slams open, once more catching the attention of everyone in the restaurant. 

**“Quei russi del cazzo! Come osano aprire il fuoco su _noi!_ Presto si sgretolano e cadono, in ginocchio come la feccia che sono! Feliciano, vieni qui! Abbiamo molto da discutere per quanto riguarda i russi sporchi!**” a man with darker hair than Feliciano yells. He stops when he sees his younger brother smiling at him.

“My brother,” the restaurant owner tells you. You nod slowly, watching as the angry Italian marches towards your table.

“Feliciano, may I speak with you?” he growls.

“Un momento, fratello. This is (Y/N) and Peter, a friend and cousin of Francis,” Feliciano says. “(Y/N), Peter, this is my older brother, Lovino.”

“A pleasure,” you tell Lovino. He rolls his light brown eyes. 

“Sì, a pleasure,” he grumbles mockingly. You frown. “Feliciano, _un momento.”_

“Sì, sì, un momento per favore. I am greeting special guests,” the restaurant owner says. Feliciano turns to you and Peter, a bright smile on his face. “Your food will be out shortly. I have it cooking, and I am preparing it myself. Buon appetito!” The man bounds off, his older brother marching behind him as Feliciano leads him into the kitchen. You can faintly hear the brothers arguing in Italian, but you pay no mind to it as you look at Peter, who looks just as confused as you felt.

“Well, that was something,” you say. Peter grins and laughs.

“I’m afraid they’ve lost the plot!” You chuckle and continue to ask the blonde about his classes.

However, you’re unaware of a certain Russian watching you closely from the other side of the restaurant with narrowed purple eyes.

**Those fucking Russians! How dare they open fire on _us!_ They will soon crumble and fall, on their knees like the scum they are! Feliciano, come here! We have much to discuss concerning the dirty Russians!**


	2. A/N

Hey guys! Very long time, no see! I apologize about that. However, I come bearing news. I opened up a Discord server specifically for my fics, so feel free to join! We're cool, I swear. 

https://discord.gg/7HePKmV

See you there!

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed the chapter, leave a comment, kudo, and subscribe! If you want to talk about the fanfic, join us at https://discord.gg/UP6MJP5


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